


Changeling Child

by DarkInuFan



Series: The Selkie, The Dragon, and Their Queen [4]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: F/M, Fae & Fairies, Familiars, Gen, NaNoWriMo 2019, Selkie AU, Worldbuilding, and even more questions made, cradlestone babies, walter gets some questions answered, walter gets to find out what happened last fall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21623176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkInuFan/pseuds/DarkInuFan
Summary: "Mom, what's the matter?" "Well, you see... let me just send you a picture." A moment later, Jim opened the picture attachment and stared. There, in his mother's bathtub where a familiar child should be, was a selkie pup. "...Ah."
Relationships: Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler | Stricklander, Toby Domzalski & Jim Lake Jr.
Series: The Selkie, The Dragon, and Their Queen [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532915
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Changeling Child

“Jim, honey. I need you to come home.” Barbara’s voice was tense, but she was trying to appear calm. “Sooner, rather than later, if you can.” 

“Mom, are you ok?” Jim shared the same strained voice, picking up on his mother’s vocal cues, “Did something happen to you?” He was already up and making his way across the burgeoning market to find Blinky. “Or one of the others?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Barbara waved away, there was a slight echo-y quality to her voice from being put on speakerphone, and he thought he heard a splash of water in the background. “This is just - Oh, what did Toby call it again- a Quest. A Calling? Something that you would probably be best at solving.”

“...What did Strickler do? Can I kill him?” 

Barbara snorted, her mouth muffled by her hand. “No, Walt’s being a darling. It’s just… one of the babies… well… give me a minute, I’ll send you a picture.” Barbara hung up just as Jim found his mentor and pulled him away from the three other trolls he was conversing with.

“Master Jim…?”

“Just a moment.” Jim’s phone chimed and he opened the picture, biting off a startled gasp. “Mom just called. She’s asking for the Trollhunter’s help.”

“Ah,” Blinky nodded. “And you must answer every call, especially from those important to you.” Blinky didn’t ask for any further details, but started leading Jim toward the gyre at a hurried but casual pace. 

“It has to do with one of the changeling familiars.”

“That your mother has been taking care of and re-homing, I am aware.”

“Well, she was giving one a bath, and, well…” Jim turned the screen to let Blinky see, getting a startled response. 

“Ah, I see why she asked for you instead of her more local Trollhunters. That does fall squarely into your wheelhouse, after all.” 

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” Jim hummed in amusement, dialing his mother back. She picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Mom, I’m on the way. I’m going to send Tobes over to start setting up the pool and put the canopy tent up, if you haven’t done that this summer.”

“You know I haven’t. The pool was for you.”

“Yeah, ok. Until then, can you keep her- Her?- occupied in the tub until then.”

“Her, yes. We’ve been calling her Genevive. So far, she’s been very settled since this is her first shift, but I’ve been keeping her occupied otherwise.”

“Good. Hey, Mom, we’re at the gyre now. I’ll talk to you in a couple minutes.”

“Ok. Love you, honey. See you in a bit, yes I will.” The last part dipped into the ‘baby talk’ range before he hung up, so he assumed the pup - Genevieve- had caught her attention. 

Taking a steadying breath, Jim then dialed Toby. “Ok… Hey, Tobes! Are you busy?” 

“Not really, no. I’m just playing some video games while Aaarrrgghh is helping Dicky at the old market, sorting through stuff.”

“Ah, cool. Think you can do Mom a huge favor and pull out the pool and set it up, along with that canopy tent. Turns out one of the familiars is a shifter and mom found out the hard way during bath time.” 

There was a clatter, then a scuffle before Toby spoke into the phone. “No. Way. One of the kiddos is a pup?”

“Genevieve, you know that one? Just had her first shift during bathtime.”

“Nana, I’m going to Dr. L’s to help with the babies, don’t wait up!” Jim could hear Toby struggling with his shoes and rush out the door. “Yeah, she’s definitely quiet enough, I should have seen it coming.” 

“How? Mom didn’t see it coming, and she  _ raised  _ me. Hey. I’m getting on the gyre now and Blink’s giving me that look. I’ll talk to you when I get in, ok?”

“You’re coming?  _ Awesomesau- _ ” At Blinky’s look, Jim turned off his phone and stuffed it in his pocket, making the rest of the way up the stairs into the gyre. 

Gesturing for Jim to join him at the controls, Blinky wrapped one arm firmly around Jim’s waist, anchoring them together. “Now, this is no vespa, but I dare say you are old enough-”

“You’re gonna let me drive the gyre?” Jim’s eyes lit up, only to get a quelling look from Blinky.

“ _ As I was saying _ … The gyre is a complicated piece of technology, but with a good portion of our lives still in Arcadia, I think it would be best for you to start learning some of the controls, especially since it's not a guarantee that I would be able to drive you across the continent at a whim.”

“Thanks, Blink,  _ you’re the best _ .” Blinky hummed, but accepted Jim’s side hug nonetheless. It was no car, but the right of passage had the same connotations either way. 

“Good, now this is the ignition toggle…”

* * *

“Dr. L!” Toby didn’t even bother to knock as he came inside (a thing that unsettled Walt the first few times, but soon came to accept as a ‘Toby thing’). “Hey, Mr. Strickler.” Toby waved at the green troll as he was feeding one of the babies some pureed food of some sort from a jar, half covered in the stuff himself.

“Mr. Domzalski.” He nodded, making airplane noises for a very Not Interested toddler, trying to get the kid to open up.

“Up here, Honey. I’m a little preoccupied at the moment, but I’m assuming Jim sent you over.” Barbara called from the open bathroom door at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah. Is the pool in the usual place? And the tent?”

“Both in the garage. If you can’t get them off the shelf, ask Walter to help you.”

“Don’t worry, Dr. L, I got it!” Toby went into the garage and stared at where, exactly, the tent was stored. “Or… maybe not.” Toby slapped his cheeks and shook his head. “No, I totally got this.” Maybe this was bordering on misuse of powers, but he had to cut himself a bit of slack, he was a short guy. And it wasn’t like anyone would actually see him, with the garage door closed. 

“Right.” Taking out his warhammer, he extended it to full size and straddled it like a broom. “Here we go…” Focusing, he made the hammer rise gently, until he could reach into the rafters. Using one hand to brace himself against the beam, he pushed the box the pool was stored in onto the floor with a very solid ‘thud’. “Don’t worry, I’m fine! Just dropped the box!” Toby called out before either of the adults could come in and check on him, lowering himself down with the hammer, with slightly more grace than the box falling. 

Storing the hammer, Toby sized up the box with a grimace. It was usually a two-man job to move the dang thing, and he was by himself. “Jimbo, you’re gonna owe me so many tacos for this.” He muttered, pushing the box onto one of its sides so that he could push it a bit easier along the ground. Really, it wasn’t that heavy, and he had been working out the past school year, but it was the fact of the matter that counted. 

“Oh, yeah, and the tent.” That one wasn’t as heavy, but it was awkward and long as he closed the garage door and made for the back, shuffle-pushing the pool with his foot and holding the tent in his arms. 

“Are you sure you don’t want any help there, Mr. Domzalski?” Walt watched the boy scoot past with a raised brow. 

“Nope, I’m good Mr. S!” Well, the boy was almost there anyway. Leaving what he assumed to be the canopy tent box next to the door, Toby kicked the pool box out the back door. “Besides, it’s like noon out there and I need to set up the pool first, and then the tent, and by that time it’ll all be good anyway, but thanks for the offer!” 

Outside, Toby dumped out the components of the pool with an air of having done this many times in the past. The only difference this time, was that he was doing it alone… and he wasn’t the one that actually used the pool! His preferred summertime activity was sunbathing on the rocks in the Lakes’ backyard,  _ next _ to said pool. 

First, he schepped the pool body next to the house, where it would get some natural shade, intending to make sure the rest of it was protected by the canopy tent later on. It wasn’t the pool’s usual sunny spot, but circumstances had changed between last summer and this one. And with a young selkie in the house, no doubt it would get more use than they thought it would in the upcoming months. Then, he was able to (relatively) quickly put together the support poles, with some (a lot) of help from the multi-colored pieces of tape stuck on in years past. 

Admiring his work, Toby looked around. “Ah! Right, hose.” and quickly noticed something was missing. Sprinting to the garage and back, Toby found the special pool hose and quickly hooked it up, making sure that the draining valve was sealed tight, and set it to fill. Thankfully, it was a relatively small pool (About a hundred inches long, and just over half as wide), so it would take only a few hours to fill. It was too small to actually swim in, as a human, but perfect for a small seal to splash around in when they couldn’t get to a lake or the ocean. 

* * *

“Oh, hey, Uncle Dicky!” Jim grinned, entertained by Toby’s nickname for Blinky’s brother, and throw in a familial title, just to get under the Gumm-Gumm’s skin. He had not expected to see anyone in the actual marketplace beside the rogue zombie thrall or two (though he had been assured they had all been smashed months ago).

“ _Must you be so crass?_ ” Dictatious muttered, staring two inches to the left. “Not only do my brother and the snack insist on calling me by that wretched nickname, but now _you as well._ _What do you want?”_

“I’m just passing through, Uncle Dicky. Thought I’d visit Mom for a bit.”

Dictatus gave Jim an unimpressed look and put a pair of hands on his hips, his other pair holding a broken piece of… something. “Want to try that one again, youngling? I’m blind, not the near-idiot Blinkous is.” It was a good thing Blinky had already left back to Jersey Market, because those were fighting words there. “No? Well, while you’re here, come help an old, blind, troll around. That simpleton Aarghaumont is around here somewhere. Take me to him.” Oh, the urge to walk Dictatious right off the side of a path, but no. The troll (and he truly was one, in both the classical and modern sense of the word) was family. 

“Right. Do you know where he is then?” 

“He said something about some cut stones in Vendel’s keep, if you must know.” 

“Ah.” Nodding, Jim guided one of Dictatious’ hands toward his elbow and took off, making sure to steer the troll around debris that could be hard to see in the dim light. He had an idea of what Aaarrrgghh was doing, but didn’t want to say anything, just in case the elder managed to make a mountain out of any molehill statements he made. Remembering himself, Jim took out his phone and shot a quick message off to Claire, telling her to ask Blinky where he was when she got back from Merlin’s lesson. There was the possibility that she would like to take the chance to see her parents while he was visiting Arcadia as well, but didn’t want to alert the wizard to anything 

“What are you doing? What is that light?” 

“I’m sending Claire a message so she knows where I am.” There, that was a neutral enough statement. 

“And must you always tell her your every move? Is she that demanding of a mate?” 

“It’s called ‘common courtesy’, Uncle Dicky.” Jim led them both around the remains of a thrall that hadn’t been eaten by a gruesome yet. “Something you seem to lack much of, making your family think you were dead for  _ how _ many centuries?” 

“How rude.” He muttered, still letting the boy lead him around.

“Manners are reciprocal, Uncle Dicky, and I don’t have to waste mine on those that won’t do the same.” 

“Hmm… you seem to be in a hurry to get somewhere, whelp. Mayhaps your mother did call you to heel after all. And in quite the emergency, if you left without even telling your lover goodbye. What  _ will _ she think of that, hmm?”

Jim had to bite off his immediate response, not wanting to give the older troll any more ammunition, though his silence was just as damning. “You’ve done something.” Dictatious mused, “recently, I assume, that has put you in, how you humans say, ‘some hot water’ with her. That is why you are on your best behavior at the moment, reporting your every move. Have you strayed, hunter, from your path?”

Sighing in exasperation, Jim bit down the urge to growl. “Yes, Mom did ask me to come. No, it has nothing to do with trolls. Yes, it is somewhat of an emergency, but not one that needs an immediate response. I have enough of a window of time to help you find Aaarrrgghh.”

“Ah. Does it have to do with the fairies in our midst?” Jim stiffened minutely, but that was all the confirmation Dictatious needed. “I may be blind, but my hearing and sense of smell more than makes up for it. It may not be as strong as our mutual brute’s nose, but I do remember the scent of fae distinctly. Especially when dwelling in the same house as one. And you have that distinct odor of magic that neither belongs to trollish geomancy, nor Merlin’s pungent stench. Tell me, young half-changeling, is this yet another secret of yours?

“‘M not a changeling. I’m a shifter.” 

“Aah, the two are distinctly different, and ne’er the two shall cross. So,  _ halfling _ , was this the secret that got your poor mate so riled up?” 

“And what would you do if it was?”

“Mmm…” Dictatious smirked like the cat who got into the cream. “Depends. Currently, nothing, since my brother has me so well-isolated away from others of my kind, beyond the brute and the impure playing house with your mother. I propose a trade, then.”

“Of what?”

“Information, of course. I am a scholar, after all.”

“For…”

“Other information, of course.” Dictatious smirked. “And my silence. You are not yet ready to reveal everything about yourself, afraid you’ll break the tentative bonds you’ve been forging.” 

“Your silence is not as valuable as you think it is, Uncle.” Jim murmured, mentally relieved that he was getting close to where he could hear Aaarrrgghh (or maybe a missed zombie thrall or two he could tear into) shuffling around. “Though information is something I can do. I would like information on your family tree. Not now, but eventually. You’re the elder, right? So you must have more stories than Blinky does.” 

The right amount of flattery never goes awry, Dictatious mused, seeing through the boy’s facade. “And in return, you will answer my questions about the fae.”

Jim nodded. “What I can, Dictatious. Aaarrrgghh, are you in here?” Jim called out, leaving the elder troll behind at the entranceway to Vendel’s keep. 

“Jim.” Aaaarrgghh smiled, greeting the half-troll with a headbutt, his hands full of a tiny but familiar looking box (at least, tiny in Aaarrrgghh’s and, at one time, Vendel’s hands). “For you.” 

“Thanks Aaarrrgghh, this’ll be a big help, once we settle enough to test them all out.” The troll nodded and ruffled Jim’s hair before giving him a questioning look. “I’m visiting Mom, and Dicky managed to find me as I was passing through. I’ll probably be staying for a couple of days to help out.” 

Aaarrrgghh didn’t need more than that as he nodded and patted Jim’s head, before pushing him toward the exit. “Go. Visit.” If Jim was staying a couple of days, he would find out the real reason soon enough, by tonight at the latest, if Toby had anything to do with it. 

“Ah, you finally found the stones that go in the amulet, did you? Took you long enough…” Jim left before he did something irreversible, like gouge out all six of his near-useless eyes. Or, even better, rip out that poisonous tongue. 

* * *

There was a knock on the basement door. Not the ramming of a ham-sized fist, or the stumbling of a mostly-blind scholar, and Tobias was currently fumbling around with the tent in the backyard, so it could only be one particular half-troll. Unlike Tobias, who very much had a ‘su casa is mi casa’ attitude, Jim  _ knocked _ . On his  _ own basement door.  _ Getting up and absently rubbing as much pureed carrot off his hands with the burp cloth that had taken semi-permanent residence on his shoulder, Strickler opened the door and welcomed the wayward boy inside. “Young Atlas. Your mother said that she called you.”

Jim nodded, carefully sliding past his ex-mentor. “Has she told you much?” He looked around the house, noting what had changed, and what stayed the same. 

“Just that you would explain when you got here while I watched the others. Barbara has kept Miss Genevive occupied in the bath in the meantime.”

Jim nodded. “Tobes?” 

“In the back… filling up a pool.”

“Got it.” Snagging Barbara’s keys, Jim opened the back door and peered out as far as the sun would allow. “Hey, Tobes!” Jim jangled the keys meaningfully and the boy whooped, snagging the keys and leading the taller upstairs. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, to explain everything to you.” Jim leaned down enough to half-smile down at the teacher through the bars in the railing. 

“I’m sure you will.” went unanswered and Strickler went back to attempting to get George to eat more than pork paté. The child was definitely a product of his time and abhorred greens of all variety with a vengeance. 

Catching up with Toby, he found the shorter had already pulled the trunk out from the back of Barbara’s closet and was fumbling for the right key on the ring. “So, you’re really going to tell Strickler?” Toby murmured, finding the right key and was now fighting with the stubborn lock.

“I don’t really have a choice here, do I Tobes? And besides, he’s about the only one that doesn’t already know, if Mom hasn’t said anything already. He was the one who decided not to come to the beach last fall.” Kneeling, Jim reached over and helped with the stubborn lock, mentally noting to spray it with some WD-40 before he left. 

“And what do you want me to do?” Opening the lid, Toby inspected the furs for any damage before shaking it out. 

“It’s really up to you, Tobes, but when it comes time, he might be one of the only people close enough to help you out, but that’s not anything to worry about for a long time yet. Until then though, can you be my voice?”

“I’m always willing to be your voice, Jimbo.” Jim’s voice had been quieter since they entered the bedroom, both speaking barely louder than a whisper. “Now, Selkie, I lend you your coat for the purpose of today, to be returned before you leave, do you consent?” 

“I will always be yours.” Jim leaned forward so that Toby could wrap the fur around Jim. Taking hold of his own furs, he concentrated on his own form, shrinking to his human size, he disguised his furs as a hooded vest, a white starburst over his heart while the rest was the same blue-black as his hair, but laying silky-straight. His skin was human, but had a tint of blue that made him seem half-frozen. His hair and horns were still trollish, while his hands became human. Mostly. He still retained the claws that belonged purely to his seal self. His eyes, Toby pointed out later, were his seal eyes, or ‘anime eyes’ as the other joked. Large and dark, with a ring around the edge of bright blue. 

“Ok, now get dressed. I need to check on the pool and finish up with the tent, but I’ll be back in a bit. Whistle if you need me sooner.” Toby grabbed the pair of blue swimming trunks from the bottom of the trunk and tossed them over, closing the bedroom door with a wave. 

Quickly switching from his now too long and slightly too big pants, Jim made it over to the bathroom and announced himself with a knock on the door. “Jim, honey, it’s good to see you.” Barbara stood up and gave her son a hug, tucking him under her chin for a moment before backing away a step and turning to… 

“Oh…” Jim mouthed in surprise. They had apparently remodeled the bathroom while he was gone. The old clawfoot was replaced with a more modern tub, large enough for even Jim in his troll form to get a good soak in. And there, in enough water to float in (if just barely) was a newly-shifted seal pup.

“Jim, this is Genevieve. I thought it would be best to call you first, rather than trying to explain to Mr. Piscina myself.” Jim nodded in agreement, kneeling by the tub and giving a chirping whistle. The pup looked up and chirped back, attempting to get closer to the New Person with an uncoordinated swim/waddle. 

Putting a hand down into the water, the pup went to nudge it, but fell over and headbutted him. “Cute.” he mumbled softly, helping the pup roll more upright. Stroking along her body, Jim inspected her health almost absentmindedly. She was a bit small, but from what he understood, nearly all the familiars were borderline underweight from their times in the darklands. The pup, while white-blonde like all selkies in her human form, had irregular spots along her pelt, giving her a dappled look. “Harbor seal clan.” he guessed, playfully rolling the pup on her back to brush down her belly. No scarring and her pelt had formed correctly. She didn’t have a seamline part down her chest yet, so she was still adjusting to her seal form. “Watch her.” He spoke, making sure Barbara was looking at him. “ _ I’m going to check on the pool, then talk to Strickler. _ ” He signed, making his intent clear. 

“Okay, honey.” Barbara nodded, keeping one hand on the pup while she read her son. “Oh, Toby has been working with Aaarrrgghh signing, I thought you should know.”

“ _ Oh? Is it helping at all?” _ Jim was curious, he hadn’t heard anything about it.

“They’ve only been working on it for a few months now, but from what I can see, he’s picking it up at a good pace.”

“ _ Good.” _ Jim grinned and bussed his mother’s cheek before heading downstairs. 

“Jim?!” Strickler sounded startled, matching with his ex-mentor’s wide eyes when the boy looked over. “What, how? What happened to you?”

Jim opened his mouth to answer, then closed it with a twist of his lips, holding up one hand in the sign to wait before making a beeline toward the back door. Opening it and sticking his head out, he knocked on the siding twice to grab Toby’s attention. “Hey there Jimbo, you ready?” Strickler didn’t hear anything from Barbara’s son, but then Toby laughed. “No, I haven’t seen her yet. Can you help me with the tent, then we can go in.” The backyard was shaded enough from the afternoon sun, that Jim had a few feet of working room and quickly set the canopy poles to a height where he wouldn’t accidently hit his horns. Then attached the top velcro of two of the walls while Toby did the sides. “Awesomesauce. Think the pool will be full enough to introduce her any time soon? I’m thinking about an hour or two.”

Coming inside, Jim bobbed his head, eventually gesturing with his hand in a shaking motion. “Jim?” Strickler asked, settling a baby onto the banket-covered floor with two other babies. 

The half-troll tilted his head, but it was Toby who spoke, “Yes, Mr. S?” 

“Would you mind telling me now, just what is going on here?” The boys shared a look and a few gestures before Jim settled opposite him on the blanket, while Toby took the third side, trapping the babies between three adult bodies and the couch for their play area. “Possibly alone, Mr. Domzalski.” He growled, not liking the looks the boys were sharing. 

“No can do, Mr. S.” Toby leaned back on his hands, getting comfortable, “Jimbo asked me to be here.” Jim gestured a few more times. “And he’s a big part of the story.  _ Aww, Jimbo. _ ”

Jim rolled his eyes, but the small smile stayed on his lips. Staring between the two boys, something clicked in the back of his mind. The gestures, some of them looked familiar, from either Toby’s flailings the past few years that he’d known the boy, or things he had cottoned on to as just a part of modern American culture. “Why, Mr. Lake, are you not speaking?”

“I am.” Toby spoke, watching Jim move his hands, “You just don’t know how to listen yet.”

“Alright then.” He would play their little game, until he could change the rules. “Then tell me. What is going on here?”

“Do you know what- no. This is my… Tobes, your turn. Can you start off?” Toby’s tone was more even as he spoke for Jim, switching to his more bubbly speech as he spoke as himself. “You sure there Jimbo? Yeah, ok, I want you to be comfortable too.” Slowly at first, Toby was signing his own words as well, like he was out of practice and wanted to make his words clearer… and then he continued on after he stopped talking. After a few minutes of the boys talking to each other with sign and Strickler feeling distinctly left out, Toby got up and ran upstairs, coming back not a minute later with a blue leather album he hadn’t seen before.

“Right.” Plopping down, Toby made sure to turn towards Strickler, but kept Jim in his perferary, just in case he had something to add on. “To start off, you know Jimbo’s bio dad is an absentee asshole, right?”

“ _ Mr. Domzalski _ ,” Strickler warned with his tone, not quite sure if it was for the language, or that Toby had said it around sensitive ears. “Yes, I am well aware that Jim’s father is well out of the picture.” Toby nodded and opened the album to the picture of a man lounging on a split-rail fence in an open fur vest and crimson swimming shorts. 

“Did you know that senior was also not human?” Hearing that, Walt looked between the photograph and Jim, seeing where the teen had gotten certain traits, but not a sign that the man in the picture was anything except human. 

“He is not a changeling, as far as I am aware, and I knew the faces of most of my colleagues, human and troll.”

“There are more things in heaven and earth…” Jim whispered, looking out the window.

“Right,” Toby nodded. “That's because he wasn’t. Isn’t?” Toby shrugged, not wanting to even think if the man was still alive or not. “What do you think of fairies, Mr. Strickler?”

The changeling studied one boy, then the other, seeing their serious face. “I should say that they’re a myth. But then again, so are Trolls, wizards and aliens as well.”

“Anything that can’t be explained by human eye or mind must, in response, be false.” Jim murmured, quoting one of his favorite text. He took a hand and wiggled his fingers in front of his mouth, pushing away, then swiped a finger past his nose.

“Along with dragons.” Toby intoned, then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we’re all just a big house of make-believe here. So, what do you really think of fairies, Mr. S?”

“From the few that I’ve encountered, they’re pests.” 

Jim frowned, and signed something, prompting Toby to speak. “Like, fairies as in pixies, or fairies as in non-human magic-based beings?”

Strickler raised a brow. “Pixies, as you are well aware, boys.”

Jim let his head fall back with a groan and Toby pursed his lips as he watched Jim speak. “This was how I was taught. There are three. Four? Classifications of people on earth. Humans, the earth-children, and magic’s children.”

“And what is the fourth?” Strickler butted in. 

Jim twisted his lips and wavered his hands before giving a proper answer. “Perspective. It depends on where you draw the line between magic and earth children.”

“Ah.” he sensed that this was a secret that wasn’t Jim’s to tell. “So fairies are all magic children then.” Jim touched his nose and nodded. “So, where do you come in, then?”

In response, Toby flipped the page to a pair of seals napping on the beach. “Have you ever heard of selkie, Mr. S?” Toby asked quietly, giving him enough time to take in the picture before turning to the next page. “Because they are very real.” The next picture showed James Senior in a chocolate brown-furred bathrobe, helping a blonde two-year-old Jim wearing a white bathrobe walk down the beach. “And there’s currently an infant selkie in your bathtub, going through her first shift without her seal parent.” Strickler turned the pages, seeing Jim grow up and change, his hair darkening, but the fur clothes stayed the same. For a while, he was alone, and then Toby joined in. The last picture, taken last fall, was of Jim as he currently sat, doing a single hand stand on the piling holding a dock in place, Claire and Toby mid-laugh. 

“No, I have not.” Walt took the photo album and flipped between pictures, studying the young man in them and sitting across the blanket. “Not beyond some myths I heard when I was a fresh changeling, but I never paid any particular attention to them.” 

Jim nodded in understanding and Toby translated for him in a soft voice, “Most humans don’t. Especially these days. ‘There’s no such thing as fairies. Magic. You have to grow up and face the facts.’” Strickler winced, he had seen the spark die in many a child’s eye, being forced to give up and dismiss the fantasies of their youth. As much as he tried to make the dry facts of ‘acceptable’ history interesting, time had stripped all the color from it. And mythology was a large part of the colors that motivated people. 

“And, Young Atlas, what would those facts actually be?” If selkie were real, what other creatures had hidden from both Troll and Human gaze for centuries. 

“‘Pure human’ beings are actually very few and far apart.” He didn’t need Toby to repeat them to hear the air quotes Jim used. “It’s why T-E-T-A- oh, Tetanus shots are a thing. To those touched by the fae realm, iron hurts -uh,  _ yeah, it does _ \- and it getting into the bloodstream could possibly be a death sentence.” 

Strickler raised his brow, but let it go for now. “Now, unless I was mistaken, you were tossing around a gaggle tack, an  _ iron horseshoe _ , one day at school last year, Atlas, Domzalski, care to explain that if you are so sensitive to the metal? And you have a beautiful selection of cast iron cookware as well.” 

“Pure iron.” Jim held up a finger and got up, scrounging around in the kitchen for a minute before coming back with a can and holding it out for Walter to read.

“Anti-rust waterproofing spray?” Jim mimed spraying his hand and gave a thumbs up before putting it away and sitting back down.

“A coat of that stuff stops iron burns, but still makes changelings shift.” Toby grimaced, absently rubbing his forehead, where there as a miniscule red mark from when the horseshoe beaned him. “Would a rubber horseshoe have done the same thing? Or is it a different reaction to the iron itself? A perfect storm combination of the two? You haven’t been using my cast iron pans, have you? Would that be why horseshoes are considered lucky?” Toby rattled off, repeating Jim’s flying hands.

Strickler loved Jim’s curious mind, he had to give the boy a fond smile, these had likely been questions rattling around his brain for a while. “And this is where strictly troll knowledge has failed you, Young Atlas. The horseshoe shape was an easy enough form to carry around and conceal during the war leading up to the conflict at Killahead bridge… the first one. And it was readily available, given that horses were the most popular form of human transportation up until the past century. Horses lost their shoes like cars lose their tires and had to be replaced every month or so to keep the animal healthy, so to raid an entire box of used shoes or to find a random one along the side of the road was considered a stroke of luck. 

“And no, modern composite or non-iron shoes do not work the same way. It must be, as you are saying, the fae magic elements from Morgana that are reacting to the iron. Other iron-made items, such as your skillets, do create an unpleasant burning sensation if held for too long, but do not force the shift. It is, what I am now coming to believe, a psychosomatic element that makes it a horseshoe in particular.” 

“I believe, therefore I am.” Jim spoke out loud, nodding.

“Psychosomatic?” Toby asked, confused.

“Sugar pills, Domzalski. When the mind believes something will work, so forces the body to comply.”

“Oh.” 

One of the babies crawled into Jim’s lap as they talked, exploring the strange blue person that had come to visit them. Absently, Jim hoisted the babe properly into his lap and started playing with it with one hand, continuing to wave the other around. Soon enough, the babe caught his hand and bit down on his fingers. Jim didn’t flinch (too badly), but did look down as he tried to retrieve his soft skinned fingers from the child. “My… what big teeth you have?” Jim whispered, his voice barely loud enough to hear.

Strickler gave Jim an odd look. He had the child he had attempted to feed earlier, George, on his lap, allowing his hand to be slobbered all over. George had no teeth to speak of, just the one that had been attempting to break free of his lower gum line from the past week. 

“Tobes.” Jim spoke out loud to get the other's attention, before switching to one-handed signing. “ _ Do you have a hag stone in your collection?” _

“Do you have a…” Toby repeated out loud before realizing it was a question for him, not for Strickler. “What, no. Maybe… I can check for you, if you want.  _ What’s up, Jimbo?” _

_ “Later.”  _ Jim dismissed, mostly staring at the babe on his lap. “ _ I have a theory that I want to check out, but it's not an emergency. I’ll be here for the next couple of days anyway.”  _

_ “What is it?” _

_ “Fae children.”  _ Toby looked at him blank in shock, before turning to the babies and staring closer at them, trying to see what Jim saw. Jim gave Toby a minute to recover himself, then motioned to be his voice. “ _ How are-“  _

“M-Mr. Strickler?” 

“Hmm…. yes, Mr. Domzalski.” Jim had apparently said something that had shaken the boy.

“How, exactly, are changeling familiars chosen? Were, sorry.” 

Another baby, this one a little girl with black hair, yawned and curled up in Walter’s lap, ready for her nap. “Oh, various ways, I suppose. In more modern times, they were the children of someone of mild importance, able to glean information by just being in the right place for the first decade or so of their career. Enrique, for example, was in a perfect position to spy on a hardworking government official. And just so happened to have the chance to spy on one of the trollhunter’s human weaknesses, well, that was just a bonus.” 

“On the other hand, elder changelings like myself were not necessarily put into the most ideal positions to start with. Yes, we were put where we had a higher chance to survive until adulthood, but none of us were the children of royalty or any such nonsense. Most often, it was a message from Morgana or a well-thought argument from a fellow changeling that led to other’s placements. My childhood, such as it was, was among an apple orchard in what is now Wales. Which is, now, unfortunately under a parking lot, as is the way of having a long life.” 

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as from Wales, Mr. S. England though, yes, but not Wales.” 

“It’s the accent, isn’t it, Mr. Domzalski.” Walt drawled, stroking the little girl’s hair.

“You must really like apples then, huh Mr. S?” 

“I abhor them. Every apple I’ve ever been given as a teacher has ended up in another student’s hands or target practice.” Which was actually false, but he only liked the one heirloom apple breed that was the closest thing that his family had grown. All the others tasted… wrong in some way or another. 

“Now, I’ve answered some of your questions, you can answer some of mine.” He looked between the two boys as they braced themselves. “Young Atlas, I’ve noticed that nearly every time you have opened your mouth this afternoon, you have been speaking in quotes, care to explain?”

Jim’s response was to burst out laughing, startling the children on the verge of naps. “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery?” Jim had actually managed a passable imitation of Walt’s accent as well. “ _ It’s fun. And Tobes can never translate them correctly.” _

“Hey!” Toby pouted immediately after translating, though a smile quirked the corner of his lips. “I just call it like I see it, and you shouldn’t blame me if something gets lost in translation.” 

Jim shrugged, looking at the clock on the tv, then at the back door. “ _ Can you check on the pool, Tobes?” _

“Sure, Jimbo.” Toby looked between Jim and Strickler. “ _ You know, you could have just asked me to leave the room.” _

Watching the redhead leave the room, Jim turned toward his teacher. “You have one question.” He whispered, quiet but determined to be heard.

Startled, Strickler tilted his head and took a moment to think. He could ask anything, now that Tobias was out of the room. “Is Tobias human?”

Jim blinked, then shook his head in disbelief. “As human as you or I. Emotionally, yes.”

“...Barbara?”

“That’s more than one.” Jim gently reminded and Strickler deflated, the voice of his familiar’s mother reminding him to be careful with his words and deals when dealing with the Fair Folk. “Mom’s as human as she can be, but she’s definitely been touched by fairy magic in her life, like Claire has. There is potential for the extraordinary, but that potential will wilt if not exorcised properly. Mom’s by now… is very wilted. She wanted nothing to do with magic if she could ever help it, especially after dad left.” Jim shrugged and waved his hand, as if saying ‘look what we brought into her life’. “He broke her heart, and her spirit.  **Don’t** do the same thing.” Jim growled, leaning forward and showing Strickler slitted pupils for the first time, his eyes held the threat of the deep sea in them. 

“Of course, Young Atlas.” he nodded back solemnly. His abilities as a half troll were well known by now. What being a Selkie and having Fae blood meant was deep in the realm of the unknown. He silently vowed to never being on the receiving end of having to find out. 

Jim nodded and leaned back on his hands, staring at the ceiling. That burn mark in the kitchen was still there. 

“Hey,” Tobes came back in, but didn’t sit down. “The pool’s about halfway full, if we want to start.”

“Yeah, ok.” Jim nodded, carefully putting a sleeping George on the blanket and stretching, climbing easily to his feet. “I’m going to see if there’s something we can use as a platform in the garage. Go update mom.” 

“Got it!” Toby gave a thumbs up and went upstairs. An excited squeal and coo told everyone that he had seen Genevive. 

“She’s  _ adorable _ !” Toby exclaimed, overjoyed that Barbara had let him carry the small seal pup downstairs and back to the pool. “Jimbo, please tell me you were this cute!” 

Chuckling, Jim finished setting a pair of cinder blocks on end in the water, balancing a plastic bag covered piece of plywood on top. It wasn’t enough to hold his weight, but an infant seal would be quite comfortable. “I wouldn’t know, Tobes.” Stepping into the pool, Jim held out his arms for the pup and brought her close, giving her a few nuzzles before carefully sitting down. The pup squeaked, not expecting the cold water, but soon relaxed and wiggled out of Jim’s arms.

“He was cuter.” Barbara insisted, following Toby down as soon as she cleaned up the bathroom. “Snow-white fur bright enough to blind yourself with. Though Ginny is cute too.” She mused, leaning against Strickler when he followed the procession out into the backyard.

Giving his old teacher and changeling a look, Jim grabbed the hood of his vest and pulled it up while pitching forward. His shift was seamless, so that by the time his nose touched the water, a four foot long black seal with horns was in his place. “What?” Strickler stepped forward in his shock, wings flaring, before catching himself. 

“Jimbo’s a Lake Baikal seal, also called a Nerpa, one of the smallest breeds of selkie out there.” Toby answered the unasked question, adjusting the filling hose so that it wasn’t spraying directly on top of the two selkie.

“Go ahead and look closer. Jim won’t mind if you touch, but he’s going to be protective of Ginny right now.” Barbara pushed her boyfriend a little, making him stumble toward the pool.

“Err… right.” This was… completely out of his realm of knowledge. Kneeling beside the pool, he held his hand out, hesitant to reach out and just touch Atlas without his own permission. Jim turned, not the most graceful with the limited water at the moment, and pressed his head to Strickler’s hand, giving him permission. “Oh…” He delicately petted Jim’s fur for a moment before sitting back and just watching. 

It had been a secret hobby of his, to watch the seals in the bay when he had a chance. Just how many of them had been selkie instead? The child had surprisingly soft fur. He didn’t know why, but he was expecting the coarse fur of troll hair, not something that reminded him almost of a rabbit. He contented himself to sit by the pool, watching Atlas interact with the little one, playing with her and supporting her with his nose when she faltered in her swimming. This went on for quite a while, but eventually Jim pushed the little girl up onto the plastic wrapped platform and shifted back

“I think it’s been enough time, don’t you?” He asked the baby, rolling her gently onto her side and touching something between her flippers. “I promise, once we get dinner, we’ll come back to the water.” With a twist of magic, Jim forced the child’s change. Where once was a mottled-grey seal pup, was now a shivering baby, wrapped in a fur coat the same color as the seal’s fur. 

“Here you go, hun.” Barbara handed over a swim diaper, which Jim took in one hand but still wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “... Here, honey, let me.” She couldn’t help but laugh a little at her son’s expression. And he had been doing so well with the baby too. Not a moment later, Barbara had Ginny well in hand and fished the swim shorts from the bottom of the pool, giving them to her son. 

“Uh… thanks.” Jim flushed lavender, taking his shorts and turning so that he was completely covered by his furs while he put them on. Taking the child back into his arms, he joined the others in the house. The sun was setting soon, so he was expecting Aaarrrgghh to make his way over any minute, and he wanted to cook something while he was in his home kitchen. 

Humming absently, Jim held Ginny to his bare (if scarred) chest and used both of their furs to cover her up. Some time earlier, the babies had awoken from their naps, drawing Barbara and some of Toby’s attention while Strickler watched the selkies. At one point, he had even drawn over one of the plastic chairs to sit on, splaying his wings so that he wouldn’t sit on them.

Ginny was still behind on her nap, her sudden transformation being a surprise to them all and throwing off her routine, but she was starting to drift off as Jim warmed her up and bounced her lightly as he walked between the rooms. 

Watching Barbara with a fond but slightly distant smile, she asked Jim when she would be getting grandchildren, getting sputtering in response. He didn’t want to tell her that grandchildren likely wouldn't happen within her lifetime. Extended lifetimes, and all that, made the thought of reproduction… a distant one. “Let me grow up a bit first, Mom.” 

Watching Jim with the baby selkie, Barbara nodded reluctantly, mostly proud that Jim was willing to take his time before settling down with Claire, but also wanting grandchildren was slowly taking root as she took care of the changeling babes. 

Looking down, Jim caught Ginny's fifth yawn in as many minutes and smiled to himself. Gesturing to the couch for permission, Barbara gave it before Jim laid down on his back, still cradling the selkie child, rubbing her tiny back in even smaller circles and absently humming something. It was only a few minutes more before the baby was out.

“You know she won’t sleep tonight, with her nap time as late as it is.” Strickler stated baldly, fighting another little boy for whatever he had hidden in his tiny fist. All Jim could see from where he was lying on the couch is that he had found something very shiny. 

“That’s fine. Selkie are mostly nocturnal if given the choice.”

“Ah.” Strickler gave Jim a stern look, mentally telling the young man that  _ he _ was now responsible for putting her down to sleep. That also explained many different things, including how Jim was nearly asleep in most of his midday classes and how comfortable he was staying up until two-three am on a constant basis to train as the trollhunter. 

Giving her a few more minutes, Jim carefully slid out from under the little girl, carefully placing her on the couch and wrapping her firmly in her pelt. “I need to make a call.” Barbara nodded her permission and Jim slipped into the kitchen, closing the slider between it and the dining room for some semblance of privacy while he pulled out ingredients for dinner. Dialing a number he had been forced to memorize when he was younger, Jim took a deep breath and started in on some carrots. “Hi, Wyatt…” 


End file.
